


The First Thing I Thought When I Saw That Famous Tree Was-Snake!

by Dippingmytoesindreams



Series: Crowley, Crowley, Crowley and Crowley [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens the Musical (2019)
Genre: Author has not actually seen the play, Aziraphale has the Voice of an Angel, DOES GRAMMARLY COUNT AS BETA OR AUTOCORRECT, Does this count as a meet cute, Finally some Musical Husbands content, Finally some brother fluff, Gen, Hamilton - Freeform, Musical Crowley has a bike!, No Ineffable Husbands in this one, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), She does not ask for your forgiveness just acceptance, The only reason this isn't G is because Jr. cusses a lot, drama club, not yet, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24111400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dippingmytoesindreams/pseuds/Dippingmytoesindreams
Summary: There is a new kid in Junior's school, and he is strangely polite, for an asshole.Featuring Big Brother Anthony, Beelzebub if you squint, and a platonic meet-cute due to a small misunderstanding. It is also Musical Omens, which is always a plus.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Crowley, Crowley, Crowley and Crowley [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736899
Kudos: 6





	The First Thing I Thought When I Saw That Famous Tree Was-Snake!

**Author's Note:**

> *Watches the Musical Sizzle Reel three times.* *throws pieces of junk together* *throws it at your face.*
> 
> I PROMISED YOU MUSICAL OMENS CONTENT AND YOU WILL GET MUSICAL OMENS CONTENT WHETHER YOU'D LIKE IT OR NOT.
> 
> Hello, have this platonic meet-cute to balance the sparse amount of smut in my previous fic aha. Junior's first name is Alexander, because reasons unrelated to Hamilton. Aziraphale goes by Ezra, in this fic, I like to think they are both-16, 17-ish? I dunno how the educational system in US works.

Alexander James Crowley Junior was going to get his role in Hamilton, come Hell or high water. 

"That sounds a bit much," Anthony mutters, and Junior could hear shuffling papers from the other end of the line. He wonders, briefly, if Anthony had yet to find a breakthrough on the Sable case. "Aren't you meant to be the IT kid? You can't be the IT kid _and_ the Drama kid at the same time. It's a paradox that cancels each other out." 

"I'll cancel _you_ out," Junior mutters, jamming the key into the ignition of his Triumph Bobber. She growls to life beneath his thighs, and he straps on his helmet. "Besides, I've got my sights on Aaron Burr since Mx. Beezle says we're reenacting the play for the Fourth, and they _know_ it."

"Then why all the fuss?"

"Because of the _fucking new kid_ , Tony."

"Don't call me that." Anthony snaps, but it is a token resistance. "You've been part of the school club since freshman year. Worrying your cute little tush over some upstart who'd only just moved in two weeks ago seems way insecure, even for you."

"Fuck off," Junior mutters bitterly, and a woman pushing a double buggy cusses him out for nearly running her off the street. Her voice fades quickly into the background.

Junior could hear Anthony's grin on the other end of the line. "Did you nearly run over a pedestrian?" He asked, gleefully.

"She knew the risks she was taking."

"Atta boy."

The last warning bell rang just as Junior pulls into a non-existent parking spot beyond the tree line (where the school traffic patrol only watches him with bitter resignation) and he can see Beth waving him over from the school entrance. Junior almost smiles-that is, until he spots the head of sandy blonde hair lingering between them. The slight upturn of his lips drops into a scowl in nearly record-breaking time. 

"Gotta go," He mutters gruffly into the mic of his Bluetooth, and Anthony barely manages to toss back a reciprocating reply before he hangs up.

"Mornin' lover boy." Leo chuckles, clapping his shoulder as he saunters up to them. Beth hits him over the head with her Geometry textbook.

"Ezra wants to meet you after Bio." She informs him, and his scowl only deepens further. He takes off and shoves his Bluetooth headset into his bag with unnecessary force.

"Stop that," she snaps at him and hits him with the book too. "I don't get why you insist on hating on him, Crowley, he's not interested in being your rival--or whatever else you've psyched yourself into calling him. He's a genuinely nice guy."

" _Too_ nice." Leo hisses, darting his eyes to and fro in that signature dramatic fashion, and ducks out sight when he spots Mr Ferguson, the school principal, advancing towards them with purposeful strides. For once, Junior is glad to see him.

"I've got advanced calculus," Beth mutters and glares at him one last time. "Wait for him. He _just_ wants to talk to you." 

What Ezra can do, Junior thought vengefully, Was suck his _dick_."

\-------

"Hey," Ezra pants, jogging to catch up with him in the hallways, where Junior was resolutely _not_ waiting for him, thank you very much. "Hey, Crowley, hi-I've wanted to talk to you for-,"

"You have 3 minutes," Junior tells him angrily, cursing his need of grabbing his History textbook for tomorrow's pop quiz.

"Um, but Beth said we'd both have Prep-?"

"2 minutes." 

"What? Okay, look, I don't want Aaron Burr role."

At this, Junior _does_ pause, turning to look at him suspiciously. Ezra looks sincere enough, but really, when doesn't he?

"I just wanted to apologize." Ezra continues, fidgeting uncomfortably with his tartan sweater. "I didn't ask for Mx. Beezle to give me the role-I know that doesn't excuse anything-and I hadn't even _plan_ to get elected as part of the main cast. I'm not trying to stake in your territory or anything. It was _your_ role, and I've already talked with them-,"

"You _talked_ with Mx. Beezle?" Junior asked, incredulous now. He didn't mean to interrupt what was probably a well-crafted apology, it was just no one had ever willingly gone up to Mx. Beezle without infinite stakes and a gun to their head. Despite being 5-foot-and-change, Mx. Beezle had the uncanny ability to tower over others with sheer presence alone.

"Yeah," Ezra said as if he'd hadn't just expressed a monumental feat of sheer courage and stupidity. "But they're not just going to hand the role to you on a silver platter, there's going to be a re-audition next Sunday at three, something about the usual stakes? Though I don't-,"

"Usual stakes, got it." At this point, Junior had resigned to cutting Ezra off mid-sentences. He looked to be _exactly_ the kind of person who wouldn't understand the concept of shutting up while he was ahead.

The hallways are almost cleared out, and Ferguson had spotted them, handlebar moustache quivering menacingly.

"Crowley?" Ezra says, nervously, probably assuming that he had momentarily zoned out.

"Yeah." Junior answers, already gearing up to take a 5-second head start Mr Ferguson's march always provided. He spared one last glance towards the blonde though, for no reason he could discern. "And thanks." 

(It could be the crappy luminescence of the overhead lights, but Junior could have sworn Ezra had blushed.)

" 'S fine," Ezra mumbles, just loud enough for him to hear. "See you, um, see you after school?"

"Sure." Junior took pity on him. "And, uh, Ferguson. Right behind you."

Ezra had cursed out loud. It sounded weirdly unfitting in his posh English accent.

\-----------

Ezra didn't get detention. This contributed to the theory that he was probably secretly an asshole.

(For some reason, the thought didn't bother him as much as it did yesterday.)

\-------------

"So, really, what you're skimping about from saying, is that-," Anthony laughs, cutting him off from over the other end of the line. "What you're saying-he isn't as bad as you made it out to be?"

"He's still a right bastard." Junior insists, frustrated, because Ezra _was_. At least, he _was_ once they'd cleared the air of animosity between them. A relaxed Ezra was an asshole-ish one, in Junior's honest opinion. Nevermind that the fact wasn't as unappealing as he initially thought it to be. 

"Well, yeah," Anthony says, and Junior could tell he was still _grinning_ , motherfucker. "But see, apparently one with the _Voice of an Angel_."

"I'm just quoting what Beezle said!"

"Woah, hey there, I didn't say you weren't!" Anthony chuckles. "It's a good thing, though, right? That you're okay with him? You _are_ okay with him, right?" He isn't laughing anymore. "Because if he _is_ an arse-,"

"You and Crow are going to beat _his_ to next year, yeah, I know." Junior finishes for him.

(He is smiling, though he rather dies before admitting it has anything to do with the spread of warmth in his chest cavity, which he attributes to heartburn.)

"Good," Anthony says, satisfied. "Though I probably wouldn't have put is so crudely. Hey, listen, I have to go in in 10, are we still on for the tailors this Saturday?"

"Nope." 

"Nice try. I'll drag you out of your room if I have to do it with you kicking and screaming." 

"Fuck off." 

Anthony laughs again. Junior does smile that time.

"Hey, Anthony?" 

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." The admission is a tiny thing, whispered like a personal secret.

(He doesn't have to explain what it means, or what it's for.)

Anthony smiles, and Junior knows that this one is just as precious and small. 

"Love you too, kid."

\------------

"Is this seat taken?"

Beth and Leo are looking between both of them, and Leo had stopped chewing. Junior looks up long enough to just gesture sharply to the bench next to him, where Ezra settles in with a flustered grin.

"Are you going to eat that?" Ezra asks, pointing to his ham stripes, and Junior just shoves his whole tray in his direction in the hopes that he keeps his trap shut instead of embarrassing them both.

Ezra doesn't, but thankfully, Leo starts a conversation with him about the test they are about to have in Humanities as if nothing unusual has happened at all. Beth doesn't _say_ I told you so, but from the look she throws him across the table, she might as well have.

Junior throws at her his celery sticks. Beth just chuckles and goes back to her Physics homework.

Life is good.

**Author's Note:**

> Please be nice to me.


End file.
